Between Perverted Lies
by Cross the Sky
Summary: With war looming and Uhra in a state of social unrest, sixteen year old Tolten has been suffering terrible nightmares.  Seeking aide the only place he knows, he unwittingly delivers himself into the hands of a monster.  GongoraxTolten, warnings inside.


_Disclaimer: Lost Odyssey, the characters, places, spells and etc therein, do not belong to me and I am making no money off of this. Mistwalker and respective affiliates hold all rights._

_Warnings: Slash/yaoi, abuse of power dynamics, mild violence, horror scenarios, non-explicit sexual content. This goes for the whole fic, even if not much of it's in the first chapter._

_Spoilers: It's probably safe to assume there will be full series spoilers, so beware!_

_Author's Note: I am far, far too interested in playing with the creepy subtext of Gongora and Tolten's relationship. But I wanted to try something a little more in depth with how Gongora was able to manipulate Tolten so perfectly and flawlessly. Someday, I will write something with this theme from Gongora's POV._

**Chapter One - Night Terrors**

The nightmares were unbearable. They were tricksome things, beginning in visions of peace and warmth in golden hued happiness. This one was an orchard at noon. The apple trees hung heavy with their fruit, brilliant red in deep green against cerulean blue sky. The sun above smiled down benevolently. Somewhere, birds were chirping. The young man known now only as Tolten wandered through the trees, the grass soft beneath his bare feet. The sun felt good and the breeze was warm and there was such beauty here. He was alone, but that was alright. He preferred to be alone. And anyway, he knew in the dream that he wasn't _really_ alone. Someone was with him, someone he couldn't see. A warm and loving someone, like a guardian angel…. Or at the very least a presence that filled him with a comfort and joy he had never known in his true life.

But the sky to the north was darkening, despite the great beauty here. Vile black clouds rolled in like engines of war as they rumbled and growled. Their underbellies flashed with a sickly green and yellow. A foul scent came blowing from the north, wafting through the sweetness of apples and water-heavy foliage. The gentle breeze rose to a whipping wind. Tolten stood amongst fruit-heavy trees as the storm came, unable to move. Like a wave across the sun the storm front came on, turning the warm noon to cold night. He clung to a tree, gripping the bark and feeling the warm life-force flow through it. The storm was coming but surely a place of such vibrant life was safe….

The tree beneath Tolten's hand began to writhe. The bark pulled and twisted and Tolten gasped. It was suddenly like a living creature, moving unpleasantly against him. He watched in horror as the tree withered and turned black, shriveling and shrieking as it died. Rotten fruit fell from the decaying branches with sick sounds like splitting flesh. Where the bark split, it looked like…like blood was oozing from the wounds! Sickly, poisoned blood. He could feel it dying. He snatched his hand away, but the rot of the dying tree clung to him. All about him things were dying, turning brackish and shedding their spoiled harvest. Tolten turned from the sight and doubled over with retching. He could smell rotten things, and the metallic tang of blood on the air and in his own bile. The great thunderhead was above him now, as he bent and heaved in the wasted ruins of the beautiful garden and he could hear nothing but a mad grinding roar….

Tolten Uhra (who sometimes forgot he had no right whatsoever to his family name anymore) came awake with a gasp and the sensation of his throat clenching and flexing. He was sweating, his covers bunched and twisted and he himself laying half off his bed. His head hung over the side, and he could smell something foul and acrid on the floor beneath him. Had that caused the terrible dream….?

No. Cause and effect needed be reversed - he'd vomited while dreaming. He could taste it in his mouth now that he had fully come awake. By the gods and his ancestor, why did these dreams plague him? Tolten reached for the pitcher of water beside his bed and took a few large swallows. He realized he was nearly naked, wet with sweat and beginning to shiver in the cool night air. He'd have to call someone to clean up after him, and that made him want to be sick all over again. How was he going to explain himself? It sounded so foolish to simply say he'd had a bad dream and lost his dinner over it….

And he didn't want any of his servants, anyway. He had only a handful, but they may as well have been moving furniture for all it mattered. They never spoke to him and he rarely spoke to them. They made one another uncomfortable, as far as Tolten could tell. So be it.

The seventeen year old once-prince stood on shaky legs. He pulled his dressing gown around him and moved to the window. Fresh air would at least alleviate _some_ of the smell, and perhaps help clear his head. The nightmares kept coming no matter what he did, and it wasn't as though he needed a soothsayer or a philosopher of the mind to tell him what they meant. He was worried about the war, and worried what it would mean for Uhra. In waking hours he certainly liked to think that Uhra herself was perfectly safe….

The view from the palace window seemed to agree. The golden capital was sleeping, quiet and peaceful beneath a cloudless sky. Except of course for the young man that had once been destined to be her king, but that wasn't remarkably out of the ordinary. The war was taking place hundreds of miles away and the perimeter was held with immobile magical engines. There was simply no feasible way that the Khent could broach Uhra's defenses and attack the country proper.

But the dreams persisted. This one had been particularly bad, and stayed vividly with the young man. The sticky sensation of sluggish blood was still on Tolten's palm.

"Something must be done."

It was perhaps half an hour or more passed midnight, but Tolten began to dress. Black trousers and a dark gray tunic were all he bothered with, he had no desire to attract any attention to himself. His traditional armor wasn't exactly something he could slip about in unnoticed. After a moment's hesitation he pulled on an old cloak he kept under his trunk for the very purpose of sneaking out. It was something he did very rarely, but sometimes he needed to be alone. Or unobserved, at the very least.

It hardly mattered, the entire castle was asleep. If he'd been crying out or calling in his slumbering madness, no one had heard.

Or cared.

Through the eerily silent castle to the equally silent streets, Tolten moved as though he were still in a dream. There were no late night street sweepers, no honey wagons, none of the menial labor he could remember when he was a child. Magic energy did it all now, no one had to get up in the dark of the night to slave over menial tasks for pittance. The age of enlightenment truly was wondrous, when Tolten took a moment to think about it. And the walk across the capital city gave him a great deal of time to think. Sometimes he resented the fact that his birthright was denied him, but Uhra was prospering. How could he resent the Council that had done what his father couldn't? And what he certainly never would have been able to! His own silly wants were of no consequence, not against the people of Uhra.

Besides, he knew he'd be a terrible king. He'd known since he was four or five and his father had begun telling him he'd never be a good king. As well as his generals, his advisors, his horsemen, his cook…. And most last heirs of overthrown monarchies were killed to ensure the monarchy _stayed_ overthrown. He was allowed to live his life, keep his castle, even some of his servants. He was remarkably lucky, really, that Roxian hadn't burned him after the death of his father. And he even was still involved in the politics of his beloved country! Not officially, of course, and most of the Council ignored him, but that was alright. He didn't need most of the Council to pay attention to him when he had Gongora.

_I hope it isn't too late…. _Tolten had made his way to the upper level of the residential area of the Palace Square. He stood before Councilman Gongora's mansion and hesitated, feeling small and lost in the shadow of his cloak. Gongora had often said that anytime, for any reason, Tolten was welcome to bother him. _But I doubt he meant to come wake him in the darkest of night over a bad dream like a petulant child. _But if he couldn't go to Gongora like this, who could he go to? And logically speaking, the man was a powerful sorcerer who was possessed of healing magics. If nothing else, Tolten was going to make himself ill with lack of sleep. Especially if sicking up while sleeping became a regular occurrence.

There now, he wasn't waking up the Councilman because he was frightened of fantasy, but because he had a legitimate fear for his health.

With that in mind, Toltem marched right to the front door and pulled the bell. It was only moment s before one of the elaborately robed research mages that served as Gongora's staff opened the door.

"It is late," was the curt answer, "and you are not a messenger from the Council. Be off with…."

"For gods' sake, it's Tolten!" The young man pulled back his cloak. "And I must see Lord Gongora immediately! It is a matter of my health."

He had no claim to royalty any longer, but Tolten hadn't forgotten what it was to _be_ royalty. And he wasn't going to be put out by some…some elevated servant in jester's face! His tone worked, apparently. He was ushered into the foyer and told to wait just a moment.

It was strange, to be in the mansion this late. Oh, there had been occasions where Tolten had ended up staying the night, but that was different. He had his own set of suites on the main floor and he slept through the night well under Gongora's roof. But he wasn't prone to wandering the manor in the dead of night, and the odd sounds of magic engines turning and clicking away sounded forbidding in the darkness. The lights that leaked from the door of the lab were oddly unsettling tonight as well. A chill made its way up Tolten's spine, calling to mind his accursed dream….

"Tolten! Whatever is the matter? You are ill?"

Suddenly, without warning or fanfare, Gongora was there. It was clear he'd just been woken - he was wrapped in a dressing gown, his eyes still puffy and his voice thick with sleep. But even so, the concern was evident. Gongora had heard Tolten was ill, and had leapt out of bed without even refreshing himself. That thought chased away the chill of the odd sounds and lights.

"Not yet," he admitted, almost sheepishly. Now he felt badly again, to worry Gongora over something so silly. "I'm so terribly sorry to bother you, especially at this hour, but…I fear I have not had a full night's sleep in weeks. I'm at my wits end…"

"What has you so troubled? Oh, goodness, listen to me! My cold foyer is hardly the place for this, come, we'll go and sit and see what's the matter." Gongora continued to chatter on, one arm around Tolten's shoulders as he led the teenager towards his study. Everything would be fine. Gongora wasn't angry at all, and Tolten couldn't imagine anything he needed more than the older man's arm comfortingly around him.

"Ah, of course…." Gongora paused outside the door of his study and shook his head. "My apologies, research is being conducted at the moment…well, no matter!" The councilman kept walking, leading Tolten to a part of the mansion he had never seen before. He found himself in an opulent sitting room, or so he assumed. It was very dim, the lights barely glowing. He could see well enough, but no details made themselves known. It smelled faintly sweet, as though incense had been burned. The coals in the fireplace still gave off a touch of fading red light. This had to be Gongora's personal chambers.

"…and wind if you'd like. Far more comfortable at any rate," the councilman was saying. "And no one will bother us here."

"Ah, yes. Very good." Tolten nodded and took the couch Gongora gestured to. The other man joined him, wine glasses in hand. There was something about the room that put Tolten at ease, and he took the wine and reclined against the back of the couch. "I do appreciate this, Gongora. I haven't an idea what to do, and I fear for my sanity!"

"Nor do I blame you." A thoughtful nod. "Sleep is when the body and mind replenishes itself. Without that…the mind can wither and sicken just as the body."

It was perhaps the choice of words. Tolten shivered and found suddenly that the scent of wine made his stomach churn. He put it down and turned away, color draining from his face. It made him think of his dream, and he wondered if he would shrivel and grow black like the trees….

"I've been having the most terrible dreams."

He hadn't exactly meant to come right out and say it like that, but there it was. Tolten leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, shuddering. "By my ancestors, I wish they'd leave me be!"

"Tell me of these dreams." Gongora's voice was soft but there was a tone of command within it. The young man took a deep breath and tried to find the words to give the visions life.

Always it's the same. A…a wonderful place where I feel content and safe. The seaside, a garden, an orchard, a meadow…something of the sort. And I am…filled with this exquisite happiness that surely cannot exist in the waking world! But then…gods, then everything turns to ruin. The storm comes from the north and everything around me begins to die and there is _nothing_ I can do! I reach out but all I touch is death and destruction and it's almost as though _I_ have brought this horrific thing to be! I know it's simply my slumbering mind expressing the fears I carry, but…."

"Do not be so certain." Gongora stood, his back turned to Tolten. "You are the last of the line of the great Uhran kings. You are the blood of the sacred fire and the holy sun, descended from the ancient gods. It may well be your dreams are not fears but warnings. You say they come to you every night?"

"Yes…but that's madness! I'm not some oracle prone to prophetic dreams. It's perfectly understandable that I would fear destruction from the north, that's where our armies are fighting." This was certainly not what Tolten had expected. He supposed he could understand where Gongora was coming from, but it had long since been established that Tolten was particularly ungifted in arcane arts. He could barely even manage alchemy, and that was a science!

"Not madness. The royal line is bound to the country, you know that. In times of danger it is often common for a king or queen to receive warning from God. It would be unwise of us to discard this. Especially when…well, when we are at war."

"It's only a bad dream…."

"Nevertheless, I shall bring it to the Council. We cannot afford to take a chance, and if anyone but you had told me of dreams such as these I would certainly dismiss it. But regardless of the revolution, your blood is unchanged. And this may be the sign we have been waiting for. I have told you of the powerful magical engine I have designed, The Grand Staff? We have been hesitant to approve moving forward with it, but I fear that now we may have no choice. I would hate to have to implicate my creation as a weapon of war…"

"If it could end this war and ensure Uhra's victory, why wait?" What was wrong with the council? While The Grand Staff had been designed to power the country, if it could end the threat of the Khent there was no sense in stalling construction!

"Because it is a new thing, and we have never tested a magic engine of this scale before. We must proceed with caution. But that is neither here nor there. Regardless of whether your dreams are warnings or fears, I would that they trouble you no longer. I shall give you a tonic, you should slumber without interruption."

"Thank you, Gongora. That is truly all I desire."

"That all men's wants could be so simple. It will take a day or so to brew. Will you be alright until then?"

"I don't know." Tolten shook his head. "I suppose I wasn't going to be getting back to sleep tonight anyway. I don't want to go back to my room, it's…unpleasant right now."

"You are welcome to stay here."

"It's late, I don't want to trouble your servants to make up my rooms." The city was often pleasant at night, he would simply walk the streets that had once been his and remind himself of all he had to be thankful for. "I'm not going to find sleep tonight as it is."

"I will not put you out in distress." Gongora turned, still holding his goblet of wine. "Nor leave you with ill dreams still lingering in your mind."

"Have you a spell then, to drive out the memories?" Tolten smiled a bit, trying to keep his attention on the councilman. Gongora smiled back, and chuckled.

"What a spell that would be, indeed. But a kind ear and a comforting shoulder can do much to drive out the cold of the soul." The great man returned to the couch and stood over the former prince. While his mouth was somewhat tight there was a kindness and concern in his eyes. He reached down to lay one broad hand upon Tolten's shoulder, the weight comfortable and familiar and so terribly reassuring. Why had he doubted coming here? Always, always Gongora did what needed to be done. Even when Tolten didn't know what that was. And he would make the nightmares go away.

Gongora's hand tightened. The blond teenager swore he could feel the wizard's power and calmness flowing into him, anchoring him. All he wanted was for Gongora to sit beside him and hold him and soothe him. He felt as though with that, he wouldn't even need a tonic. Just Gongora to keep away the dark.

"Stay here tonight, Tolten," the mage went on, "and I will stay with you and drive the dreams from your mind with my own two hands."


End file.
